Edward's Story
by jayemtee
Summary: Edward discusses his life after he is changed into a vampire and before he meets Bella.


No one _human _could hide from the influenza outbreak. It wasn't just in Chicago, it was across the nation, across the world. I recalled before I became too ill, that in the papers it was written about constantly. People feared for their lives, my mother and father too, were afraid, but not for them, but for me, their only child.

Looking back it seemed in vain for them to worry so. Edward, my father for whom I am named after, had passed away months ago. My mother, Elizabeth, though, she fought through and tried to hold on, if only for a moment longer. Perhaps she was trying to be brave for me, in hopes to inspire me to try to live, but I was also tired. I was always coughing. It was hard to breathe and I was either too hot or too cold.

I spent my seventeen birthday confined to my bed. Mother could barely breathe, but she smiled as often as she could when I would look over to see her. We, not we, but our doctor, Carlisle Cullen, had kindly transformed our living room into a large bedroom for both my mother and I.

Carlisle, as I call him now, then, Dr. Cullen, was peculiar to me. It struck me as odd that even though he was around thousands with the influenza, he seemed fine. Mother would whisper to him when she thought I was asleep, and sometimes I would hear what they spoke of. Mostly it was about me and if I was getting worse. Of course I was, but whenever I'd ask her, she would tell me Dr. Cullen said I was improving. She though, was not getting well.

She was half her weight the morning I awoke to find her bed empty. I knew where she was, I didn't need to be told. Dr. Cullen just took the sheets and burned them in the backyard while I sputtered and coughed, gasping for air. I never cried for her, because I knew she was in a better place. I wished though, that she knew she was going, so she could have said goodbye.

I remember the day I became what I am now, a vampire. It was early September, only a day or two after she had passed. I was delusional and only opened my eyes for moments at a time when I would drift back into consciousness at the stirring of a nightmare. Usually about dying, and not being sure where I was going.

Dr. Cullen eased my passing. He stayed more often, and told me stories from earlier years. He relinquished my dozing with stories of old, chivalry, knights, great battles, things men loved to hear about.

And it was on such a late night in September that he revealed to me the secret of his health. What he was, how he became that way, and how my mother had asked him to save me. I was quite sure that her intent was not the same as his. Hers was medical, his was supernatural. I did not tell him yes or no, I left the responsibility up to him. I told him I understood he was lonely, and that I wanted to live. Perhaps it was because of the pain I was in or the fact that I didn't know where I would go once I died. Uncertainty was my flaw, for I wished to know everything.

I was observant of people though. In that sense, I could understand people, what they thought, how they felt. I could not directly tap into their mind, but they were so obvious. Bad days, worse days, better days, each were very distinguishable.

I don't remember the bite. I don't recall where it was at. It was not on the neck though. Carlisle said it would be too obvious. The irony I thought though after it had happened was I wanted this to be rid of pain, but instead I felt more. More agonizing pain than I had ever felt.

And for three days I thrashed about. Screams I'm sure were heard for miles, but no one came. Carlisle just sat there. I recalled him repeating to focus on something else, but I couldn't. There was no pain in comparison.

My blood burned, literally, out of my body. I felt every ounce, every drop, disappear. It started through the torso and spread both to my brain and to my toes. By the end of the first day my body was so tortured, I just wished for death. The worst was that I knew it would never come. The second day I sensed the organs failing. The urge to urinate had passed. I was no longer hungry, no longer hot or cold. I began gasping for breath toward the evening. Thinking I would die, and then after I no longer felt the air pass in and out of my mouth, through my body, I knew I no longer needed oxygen. Lastly, my heart left my soul. It beat so hard, so fast, I was sure it would stop. And it did. I felt it. One can never describe the way it feels to have your heart no longer beat, and still be able to tell you how it feels after. I no longer felt alive, because I wasn't.

On the third day, I knew what I had become. I wasn't sick, I wasn't in pain. I didn't feel anything, anything at all. Carlisle told me what I had become. He told me how I would feast, how I would operate, but I didn't want to hear it, because I had already heard it before it came out of his mouth.

Carlisle said that our strengths became enhanced when we transformed. I could read minds. I could read his. He never spoke, only I did, and we carried on a conversation for an hour.

He tried to explain to me why I couldn't massacre humans, but I didn't care. I was hungry. Hungry for blood and that is all I wanted.

Most noticeable physically about my self were three things. I was alarmingly strong. I was stronger than anyone, ever. I was indestructible, as Carlisle told me. Also, I was very pale. This seemed valid for I no longer had blood running through my veins. My heart no longer pumped and I no longer needed to breathe. Lastly, not to sound vain, but I was handsome. Like Carlisle, he said vampires were beautiful. It was a trait to help us hunt, like animals, to attract our prey. I found this to be delightful and used it toward my advantage.

I was relieved to find that I wouldn't die, but also devastated. I would live, eternally, through a thousand wars like the one that was being fought in Europe, and through many more. I would see people I knew grow old, die, but I would be seventeen forever.

No longer was I appreciative of Carlisle, but I despised him. He had turned me into a monster. I wouldn't listen to him. He didn't know. I could take care of myself, and I left. He had created me to be a companion, but I didn't want fraternity. I wanted to quench my thirst, and so I did. I stormed out of what I once called home into the world that was now at my finger tips. Although I was wreck less, I was not an idiot, and I waited for nightfall before I feasted.

Waiting was the worst. I saw, no smelled, many appetizing meals, but I refused. Somehow, I still had a conscious. There were moments though I wondered why not attack humans. What could they do? They were weak. It would take nothing to kill them.

My first meal was a man. He was approximately thirty or so, and he was digging in a trashcan looking for a meal. I did not even sneak up to him or startle him. I simply walked up to him, said good evening, and grabbed his neck and bit him. I felt the power surge through me, as if I had been reborn. It was exhilarating to be that free, to fear nothing.

And this is how I spent my first few weeks of my new life. I learned several things though very quickly. No matter how tired I felt, I did not, could not, sleep. I learned the way to replenish my strength was to eat. I did not burn in the sun, which I found quite entertaining. The myths were completely untrue. Instead, I shone like a diamond. I glittered so brightly I thought I was the Sun. I also realized I did not get fangs, which was slightly disheartening. The most pertinent of traits besides my ability to read minds, was my speed. I craved speed. There was no slow, only fast and faster. I could not fly, but I could move faster than any car at the time. With these, I survived for many years. I roamed the country, the world. I traveled all over America, trying different tastes, finding I mostly enjoyed the South.

At the end of the 1920's with the crash of the stock market, I knew things were going to turn bad. People were depressed, so I found myself roaming the streets of Europe. It was in disarray still from World War I, but I found it enchanting. The smell, the taste, everything was different. I was completely fine to continue on this way. But, something happened.

I hadn't feasted for weeks, I had been too busy pursuing other meaningless tasks and I found myself needing blood. I was too tired to try to catch something, so I stalked something. The girl and her mother were walking down the street, back home I suppose, after a day of shopping. They were discussing the wonderful things they had bought. The woman discussed her dress, the girl, her toy. Both were quite lively and animated and smelled sweet. I watched from the alley and at the opportune moment when the woman dropped her bag, I kindly appeared to fetch it for her.

"How thoughtful." She said. And then I grabbed her and her daughter and took them to the alley.

I killed the woman first. The girl, she tried to scream, but my look scared her enough so she couldn't speak. And there the girl sat, probably going insane at the sight of this beast feasting on her mother. It took but 10 minutes and I turned to her. And her face was disgusting. She had been crying, the most crying any human could possible cry. She reeked of fear, it oozed from her pores.

And I felt something. I felt ashamed, deep regret, and mostly anger toward this insignificant child who was making me analyze the entire situation. I did this all the time, it was how I lived, and without speaking, she talked me out of it.

I killed her too, to spare her of the injustice and horrific life she would lead from this moment on. I then cleaned up the mess and found the first ship back to America.

I found Carlisle still in Chicago. He wasn't hard to track down, I could hear people's thoughts, and I could smell him. Somehow, no matter the distance, we were forever bound to one another.

Shockingly enough, he wasn't upset. He never asked me why I changed my mind, never asked me why I left, he just simply took me back. He though, had found a companion, a young woman named Esme. She was beautiful, caring, loving. They took me in as their child. I took them as my parents. From this moment I was no longer Edward Masen, I was Edward Cullen.

Carlisle found for me young girl named Rosalie. He had intended for her to be what Esme was for him, but I never thought of her as more than a sister. It was true I loved her, but it would never be the love Carlisle had for Esme. She was beautiful, but she was pompous, arrogant, conceited, and bitter. Although she respected Carlisle, perhaps she was resentful for him making her what she was. She had no choice, she never was asked, she just awoke and was what she was. Later in years, Rosalie found what she need in Emmett. They married and for society's sake, they were brother and sister. And this was the happy Cullen family, all five vampires.

We all learned from Carlisle how to be productive, secretive, and not monstrous. We all attended medical school, although none of us had any intention of being doctors. And this is how it continued.

We did move from Chicago when it was obvious Carlisle could no longer pass for 26, we had been there too long. We found refuge in Alaska. During this time, another encroaching war was occurring. Carlisle thought it best if I didn't enlist, but I was bored. I had nothing else to do with my eternity, so I found myself fighting pithy Germans again.

It was here I befriended my only best friend until Alice. His name was Gregory Simpson, and he was 18, technically only a year older than I. He was from a Springfield, Illinois, a place I knew well. He told me about his father. He wanted to make him proud, so he joined the military. He told me he was scared, more scared than he had ever been. But, he told me late at night when there was no fighting and we were laying under the stars in the snow, that he wasn't afraid of dying. He was afraid of never seeing Claire Ferguson. He told me she was his true love. They met in high school and he wanted to be with her forever.

It was moments like these I questioned my previous decisions. I had been selfish not wanting to die, and here was Gregory, fighting for his country and not fearing death, but losing love.

I promised Gregory that night under the stars that I would take him back home to marry Claire, and that I would be at his wedding giving his toast. He said he'd like that very much.

But, just weeks before the war was over our division was moving camps and we were ambushed. All of our men died. I of course, the lone survivor, massacred the 300 axis soldiers. When our troops found me, I told them it was Gregory who led the attack, avenging all the deaths, but died in the process. He was awarded the Purple Heart and Medal of Honor. I told the soldiers I would see to it the Gregory's body and effects found their way back to his family.

I drove into Springfield, Illinois, not realizing the burden I carried with me. His family of course, thanked me. They thanked me for bringing his body back, so they could lay it to rest where they could talk to him everyday.

I went to Claire's to tell her the news. She broke down, cried and sobbed herself sick on her porch. I gave her Gregory's medals in hopes she could remember him by these. It proved to be worthless. Within weeks of my first visit to Springfield, I found myself coming back to say goodbye to Claire. She literally died of a broken heart and was laid to rest next to Gregory. It was in this moment I vowed never to love. I had seen what it had done, and I did not want to watch as the woman I loved aged and died, while I stayed young and lonely forever.

Later in life, we added Alice and Jasper to our family. Alice could see into the future, or see others future decisions, and Jasper could calm those around him. They too, were companions, and I was left to be the only one without someone to love him.

I tried to hide it, which was not done easily or successfully. My family knew, and it wasn't until almost one hundred years after I changed that I met the person who changed my view, and made me want to love and be loved, Bella Swan.


End file.
